this week in art

FRED MOTEN ON CHRIS OFILI: BLUETS, BLACK + BLUE, IN LOVELY BLUE

Chris Ofili’s “Blue Rider” paintings is the centerpiece of solo exhibition at the New Museum (© Chris Ofili; photo by Maris Hutchinson/EPW)

Chris Ofili’s “Blue Rider” paintings highlight solo exhibition at the New Museum (© Chris Ofili; photo by Maris Hutchinson/EPW)

CHRIS OFILI: NIGHT AND DAY
New Museum of Contemporary Art
235 Bowery at Prince St.
Thursday, January 29, $10 (includes half-price gallery admission), 7:00
Exhibition continues through Sunday February 1, $16 (pay-what-you-wish Thursday 7:00 – 9:00)
212-219-1222
www.newmuseum.org

Tonight at 7:00, with the revelatory midcareer-redefining exhibit “Chris Ofili: Night and Day” about to begin its final weekend at the New Museum, writer and professor Fred Moten will be at the downtown institution for a special presentation, “Fred Moten on Chris Ofili: Bluets, Black + Blue, in Lovely Blue.” Moten, author of the 2014 National Book Award finalist The Feel Trio, will be discussing Ofili’s influences, historical references, and multidisciplinary trajectories, with a particular focus on the artist’s “Blue Rider” paintings. In 2004, Ofili, who was born in Manchester and moved from London to Trinidad in 2005, began a series of striking large-scale oil-on-linen works, some with charcoal and/or acrylic as well, with varying shades of deep blue over a silver background. At first glance, the paintings appear to be virtually all dark blue, nearly black, with no figuration apparent. Nine of the works are hanging together in a dark room on the third floor of the museum; visitors will benefit from allowing time for their eyes to adjust to the lack of light, moving around and viewing the canvases from different angles to let the paintings’ magic and mystery slowly reveal themselves. When we were there, a woman got angry when people just walked in and out, thinking that there was not much to see; she got down on her hands and knees, examining every detail of the works, imploring others to do the same. The paintings have quite a collection of stories to tell, incorporating elements of slavery, mythology, blues music, the Bible, and modern life. “Ofili’s work suggests a way of seeing where the centrality of the color is taken for granted,” artist Glenn Ligon writes in his catalog essay, “Blue Black.” He continues, “‘Iscariot Blues’ (2006), ‘Blue Riders’ (2006), ‘Blue Steps (fall from grace)’ (2011), ‘Blue Smoke (Pipe Dreams)’ (2011), and ‘Blue Devils’ (2014) use blue as a kind of dark matter, a force not easily quantified but which holds the universes [Ofili] creates on canvas together. Blue is a bitch.” Ofili might be best known for the controversy surrounding his use of elephant dung in “The Holy Virgin Mary” when it was shown as part of the 1999 Brooklyn Museum exhibit “Sensation” and publicly decried by Mayor Rudolph Giuliani, so it’s fascinating that there have been no such issues about “Blue Devils,” which is based on symbolic figures during Trinidadian Carnival in Paramin but is essentially about police brutality affiliated with Britain’s “stop and search” program; the powerful piece also evokes the tragedies of Stephen Lawrence, Trayvon Martin, and other black men and women who either died at the hands of the police or had their cases botched by law enforcement.

 (© Chris Ofili; photo by Maris Hutchinson/EPW)

New Museum survey shows Chris Ofili’s wide range of work (© Chris Ofili; photo by Maris Hutchinson/EPW)

“In choosing ‘Blue Devils’ (2014) as the title of his ominous, dark new painting, Chris Ofili has disturbingly and deliciously subverted that famous Trinidadian Carnival reference, transposing it to the streets of London, Manchester, or New York,” writes lawyer Matthew Ryder in his catalog essay, “Blue Devils.” Ryder, who handles police brutality cases, further explains, “Through this piece, Ofili adds his voice at a timely point to the long-running debate concerning the relationship of black men with the police, both in the United Kingdom and the United States, since it has gained unusual intensity in recent months. . . . ‘Blue Devils,’ with its twisted, interlocked figures barely discernible beneath the deep, overlapping shades of blue, evokes a misconduct occurring in a state of near invisibility. It also captures something much harder to express — the peculiar way that such confrontations between black men and the police are simultaneously intensely crude and unusually subtle.” The nine “Blue Rider” works are harrowing and emotional, but this first major solo museum show for Ofili, which has been extended through February 1 and is curated by Massimiliano Gioni, Gary Carrion-Murayari, and Margot Norton, also displays Ofili’s wide range, including his “Afromuse” and “Afro Margin” series, his recent paintings inspired by Ovid’s Metamorphoses, and “The Holy Virgin Mary,” one of a roomful of pieces by Ofili that consist of acrylic, oil, polyester resin, glitter, map pins, and elephant dung on linen, many precipitously set on the floor at an angle, with myriad details that require up-close examination, and not just because of their provocative titles: “No Woman, No Cry,” “Foxy Roxy,” “Pimpin’ ain’t easy.” There are also drawings, sculptures, watercolors — but it all leads back to these dark, sociopolitically daring, sensational works. As Ligon concludes, “To approach black through blue, to be in its vicinity but not quite get there, blackness an event horizon, blackness with a ‘u’ instead of an ‘e,’ a ‘state of mind’ not a ‘state,’ something always under construction, subject to revision, is what Ofili’s canvases suggest. In them, he proposes new ways to see blackness, new pathways to travel. For Ofili, blue black is the new black.” It should be fascinating to hear Moten’s take on the subject as well. (The event is sold out, but there will be a standby line beginning at 6:00. You can also watch the event on Livestream. For a conversation between Ofili and Gioni, go here.)

EL GRECO AT THE FRICK COLLECTION / EL GRECO IN NEW YORK

El Greco, “St. Jerome,” oil on canvas, 1590-1600 (Henry Clay Frick Bequest)

El Greco, “St. Jerome,” oil on canvas, 1590-1600, Henry Clay Frick Bequest (photo by Michael Bodycomb)

EL GRECO AT THE FRICK COLLECTION
The Frick Collection
1 East 70th St. at Fifth Ave.
Tuesday – Sunday through February 1, $20 (pay-what-you-wish Sundays 11:00 am – 1:00 pm)
212-288-0700
www.frick.org

In the summer of 2008, the Frick moved six of its masterpieces from the Living Hall to the Oval Room while the former was being refurbished, offering art lovers the opportunity to view such Frick favorites as Hans Holbein the Younger’s breathtaking “Sir Thomas More” and El Greco’s marvelous “St. Jerome” in close conjunction and different surroundings, giving them a kind of new lease on life. In celebration of the quadricentennial of the death of Crete-born artist Domenikos Theotokopoulos, better known as El Greco, the Frick has moved all three of its paintings by the Spanish master into the Oval Room: “St. Jerome,” “Vincenzo Anastagi,” and “Purification of the Temple.” Presented side by side for the first time ever, the trio forms a striking triumvirate. In the center, above the fireplace, stands Italian knight Vincenzo Anastagi, wearing armor over his upper body and puffy green pantaloons, his helmet on the floor to his left, an open window barely visible to his right, his sword oddly showing through between his legs, a curtain behind him creating geometric shapes in the background. He is both mysterious and dignified. On one side of “Vincenzo Anastagi” is a rare religious scene purchased by Henry Clay Frick, “Purification of the Temple,” a small, richly dense, boldly colorful depiction of Christ throwing the moneychangers out of the temple. To Christ’s right are sinners, a relief of Adam and Eve in the Garden of Eden above them; to his left are his believers, a relief of Abraham about to sacrifice Isaac above them. El Greco’s brushwork dazzles in this compact, claustrophobic, emotionally powerful work. Meanwhile, on the other side of “Vincenzo Anastagi” resides “St. Jerome,” the biblical translator looking just away from the viewer. His head, ears, nose, gray-white beard, and fingers are elongated, his red robe sharply defined against a dark background. Up close, one can revel in the folds of his clothes, the touch of color peeking through the end of his white sleeves, his left thumb placed firmly in the margin of the Bible in front of him. His face is craggy and wrinkled, with dark, deep-set eyes and sunken cheekbones. The painting is centered by the vertical buttons running down St. Jerome’s robe, pulling at the viewer. It’s a striking portrait that is a joy to behold in this new setting, like experiencing it again for the first time.

El Greco (Domenikos Theotokopoulos) (Greek, 1540/41–1614). View of Toledo (detail), ca. 1598–99. Oil on canvas; 47 3/4 x 42 3/4 in. (121.3 x 108.6 cm). The Metropolitan Museum of Art, New York, H. O. Havemeyer Collection, Bequest of Mrs. H. O. Havemeyer, 1929 (29.100.6)

El Greco (Domenikos Theotokopoulos), detail, “View of Toledo,” oil on canvas, ca. 1598–99 (The Metropolitan Museum of Art, New York, H. O. Havemeyer Collection)

EL GRECO IN NEW YORK
Metropolitan Museum of Art
1000 Fifth Ave. at 82nd St.
Gallery 608
Through Sunday, February 1, recommended admission $25
212-535-7710
www.metmuseum.org

A later version of El Greco’s portrait of St. Jerome, “Saint Jerome as Scholar,” is part of the Metropolitan Museum of Art’s “El Greco in New York,” which brings together all of their El Greco holdings along with those from the Hispanic Society of America, collected by Archer Huntington. The Met’s pieces are highlighted by the unfinished and truncated “The Vision of Saint John,” in which the apostle, in blue dress, dominates the left side of the frame, holding his hands up to the heavens, the color palette similar to the Frick’s “Purification of the Temple”; “Cardinal Fernando Niño de Guevara,” a portrait of the Spanish inquisitor in elegant dress sitting in a chair, his hands dangling over the armrests, with ornate wallpaper behind him and a sheet of paper at his feet, looking as if he is ruing what he has to do next; and “View of Toledo,” one of the greatest landscapes in art, with dark, foreboding clouds hovering over lush green fields and gray buildings, a condensed, ominous depiction of “the Holy City.” The Hispanic Society works include “Pietá,” showing Christ being carried in the center, the three crosses nearly hidden at the upper left, his mother in agony behind him; “The Holy Family,” with the baby Jesus nursing at his mother’s teat; the rare miniature “Portrait of a Man”; and “Saint Francis,” a side view of the friar that was originally part of a larger canvas. Over the course of the more than four hundred years since El Greco began painting, his work has been in and out of style, forgotten and rediscovered, widely hailed and sinfully dismissed. But the gathering of all his paintings in New York, from the Frick, the Met, and the Hispanic Society, reveal him to be a man ahead of his time, an artist whose influence continues to grow.

MATT BOLLINGER: READING ROOMS

Matt Bollinger, “The Reading Room,” flashe, acrylic, collage on unstretched canvas, 2014

Matt Bollinger, “The Reading Room,” flashe, acrylic, collage on unstretched canvas, 2014

Zürcher Studio
33 Bleecker St. at Mott St.
Tuesday – Sunday through January 30, free, 12 noon – 6:00 pm (Sunday 2:00 – 6:00)
212-777-0790
www.galeriezurcher.com
www.mattbollinger.com

Matt Bollinger’s latest exhibit at Zürcher Studio, “Reading Rooms,” is highlighted by a pair of stunning large-scale canvases, “The Reading Room” and “The Reservoir,” that depict old bookstore shelves; in the former, the shelves are collapsing in on themselves, books, paper, magazines, and garbage strewn about, while in the latter, the shelves are still standing and full, with books piled on the floor, but in both cases it feels like it’s been quite some time since someone has been there. The two works set the stage for the rest of the show, as if all the other paintings are pages from books from these shelves, each merging Bollinger’s — and the viewer’s — past and present. “I used to work in a bookstore,” Bollinger says in a catalog interview for his spring 2014 show at Zürcher in Paris, which also included “The Reservoir.” He continues, “It had a mold-riddled basement that I was always eager to explore; you could find all sorts of stuff down there. I want this picture of a bookstore to operate as a reservoir. A holder, a backdrop, for all the other reservoirs in the show.” Now Bollinger has symbolically transformed Zürcher’s Bleecker St. gallery into a kind of psychological library, with works that are like pages from a book. Among the chapters of Bollinger’s tome are “Mayhem,” “Nancy (Reflection),” “Odd Jobs,” “Brian in Nancy’s Room,” and “Sheet Rock,” featuring repeating characters. In the back room, “Renovations” consists of twenty-eight smaller pieces arranged in rows, creating another kind of narrative; nearby is a painting of the book’s torn cover. However, despite the serious nature of the paintings and how they bring up thoughts of the future of libraries and bookstores and hard copy, Bollinger, who was born in Kansas City and is based in Brooklyn, also says in the catalog, “I’ve been thinking about the obsolescence of the paper book, but I don’t want the pieces to be laments. I want the work to present treasures, private discoveries.” There are many treasures and private discoveries to be found in “Reading Rooms.”

STRANGER THAN FICTION — FAR OUT ISN’T FAR ENOUGH: THE TOMI UNGERER STORY

(photo by Sam Norval /  Corner of the Cave Media)

Illustrator Tomi Ungerer talks about his fascinating life in compelling documentary (photo by Sam Norval / Corner of the Cave Media)

FAR OUT ISN’T FAR ENOUGH: THE TOMI UNGERER STORY (Brad Bernstein, 2012)
IFC Center
323 Sixth Ave. at West Third St.
Monday, January 19, 8:00
Winter series runs Tuesdays at 8:00 through March 24
212-924-7771
www.faroutthemovie.com
www.stfdocs.com

“I am a self-taught raving maniac, but not as crazy as Tomi, or as great as Tomi,” Maurice Sendak says early on in Brad Bernstein’s engaging documentary, Far Out Isn’t Far Enough: The Tomi Ungerer Story, adding, “He was disarming and funny and not respectable at all.” Another children’s book legend, Jules Feiffer, feels similarly, explaining, “Tomi was this wonderfully brilliant, innovative madman.” Born in Alsace in 1931, Tomi Ungerer developed a remarkably diverse career as an illustrator, incorporating the emotional turmoil he suffered after losing his father when he was still a young child and then living under Nazi rule. In Far Out Isn’t Far Enough, Ungerer takes Bernstein and the audience on a fascinating journey through his personal and professional life, traveling to Strasbourg, Nova Scotia, New York City, and Ireland, which all served as home to him at one time or another as he wrote and illustrated such picture books as The Three Robbers and Crictor for editor Ursula Nordstrom, made bold political posters in support of the civil rights movement and against the Vietnam War, and published a book of erotic drawings, Fornicon, that ultimately led to a twenty-three-year exile from America during which he stopped making books for children. “I am full of contradictions, and why shouldn’t I be?” the eighty-one-year-old Ungerer says in the film. Ungerer discusses how he uses fear, tragedy, and trauma as underlying themes in his stories, trusting that kids can handle that amid the surreal nature of his entertaining tales.

He opens up his archives, sharing family photographs and old film footage, which reveal that he’s been pushing the envelope for a very long time, unafraid of the consequences. He also visits the Eric Carle Museum to check out a retrospective of his work for children, appropriately titled “Tomi Ungerer: Chronicler of the Absurd.” Meanwhile, Rick Cikowski animates many of Ungerer’s drawings, bringing to life his characters, both for children and adults, adding another dimension to this wonderful documentary. Far Out Isn’t Far Enough is a lively, engaging film about a seminal literary figure with an infectious love of life and art, and a unique take on the ills of society, that is a joy to behold. The film kicks off the IFC Center’s winter season of Stranger than Fiction on January 19 at 8:00, followed by a Q&A with Bernstein and Ungerer; Ungerer aficionados will also want to check out the new exhibit ”Tomi Ungerer: All in One” at the Drawing Center through March 22. Stranger than Fiction continues Tuesday nights through March 24 with such other nonfiction works as The Hand that Feeds, Freeway: A Crack in the System, Occupation: Dreamland, Seymour: An Introduction, and A Dangerous Game; each screening will be followed by a Q&A with the director(s), producer(s), and/or subject.

COIL — ALEXANDRA BACHZETSIS: FROM A TO B VIA C

COIL

Swiss choreographer Alexandra Bachzetsis examines beauty and the act of viewing in free COIL presentation, FROM A TO B VIA C

Swiss Institute / Contemporary Art
18 Wooster St.
Performance: Wednesday, January 14, free with advance RSVP, 7:00
Installation: January 12-13, free, 12 noon – 6:00 pm
212-352-3101
www.ps122.org/from-a-to-b
www.swissinstitute.net

Swiss choreographer Alexandra Bachzetsis once again explores gender identity, body language, concepts of beauty, and the very nature of art and performance in today’s communication-obsessed world in her latest work, From A to B via C, inspired by the fascinating history of Diego Velázquez’s “The Toilet of Venus.” In that painting, which is also known as “Venus at Her Mirror” and “The Rokeby Venus,” Cupid holds up a reflecting glass so his nude, reclining mother, Venus, the goddess of love, can admire her visage. The controversial work, completed by the Spanish painter in 1651, stirred one viewer, Canadian suffragette Mary Richardson, to repeatedly slash it in March 1914; her attack was a very public response to the brutal treatment being given fellow feminist activist Emmeline Parkhurst. “I have tried to destroy the picture of the most beautiful woman in mythological history, as a protest against the government for destroying Mrs Pankhurst, who is the most beautiful character in modern history,” Richardson wrote at the time. “Justice is an element of beauty as much as colour and outline on canvas.” One hundred years after that attack, Bachzetsis’s multimedia performance installation From A to B via C, taking place this week at the Swiss Institute as part of PS122’s tenth annual COIL festival, investigates this strange conjunction of art, protest, and feminism. In the hour-long U.S. premiere, Bachzetsis and Gabriel Schenker, wearing Cosima Gadient’s costumes depicting the inner musculature of the human body, are joined by a naked Anne Pajunen, who holds up a monitor showing a live feed as Bachzetsis reclines on a couch and looks at herself. The Zurich-born Bachzetsis’s previous work includes The Stages of Staging, Bluff, and Mainstream; the installation From A to B via C can be seen January 12 & 13 from 12 noon to 6:00, while the final live performance is scheduled for January 14 at 7:00. Admission is free with advance RSVP.

KARA WALKER: AFTERWORD

Kara Walker follow-up packs another powerful punch (photo by twi-ny/mdr)

Kara Walker follow-up packs another powerful punch (photo by twi-ny/mdr)

Sikkema Jenkins & Co.
520 West 22nd St. between Tenthy & Eleventh Aves.
Tuesday – Saturday through January 17, free, 10:00 am – 6:00 pm
212-929-2262
www.sikkemajenkinsco.com

Brooklyn-based multimedia artist Kara Walker didn’t have much to say about her staggering installation “A Subtlety or the Marvelous Sugar Baby: an Homage to the unpaid and overworked Artisans who have refined our Sweet tastes from the cane fields to the Kitchens of the New World on the Occasion of the demolition of the Domino Sugar Refining Plant” before and during its May 10 to July 6 run in Williamsburg. Instead, she let the work, a monumental white sphinx/mammy hovering over a collection of molasses-dripping “Sugar Babies,” speak for itself to more than 130,000 visitors who came to experience it (and posted nearly 20,000 photographs to Instagram and Twitter). Walker has now followed that up with “Afterword,” a telling three-part exhibit at Sikkema Jenkins that gives new perspective on the work, which was commissioned by Creative Time. The first room contains a series of preparatory sketches, including a 2013 ink-and-watercolor version of the central figure throwing up and a cut-paper black silhouette of the sphinx on archival board, reversing the black-white, racially charged color scheme. The second room is dominated by the sphinx’s left fist, along with several “Sugar Babies”; watercolors in bold pinks, yellows, blues, and reds made during the run of the installation that reveal aspects of the history of the sugar trade and the building of the sphinx, visualizing the construction activities in terms of slavery; and the large-scale gouache-on-paper “Terrible Vacation,” a swirling horizontal update of J. M. W. Turner’s The Slave Ship (which plays an important role in the new film Mr. Turner).

Kara Walker has the last word in examination of her popular Domino Sugar Refinery installation (photo by twi-ny/mdr)

Kara Walker has the last word in examination of her popular Domino Sugar Refinery installation (photo by twi-ny/mdr)

In the third room, a brown maquette of the sphinx sits in a glass case, surrounded by more sketches, including a twenty-panel narrative on the history of sugar production, leading to a screening room that shows a pair of films: For An Audience, six cameras captured the last hour of the installation, as visitors took pictures in front of the work, stared in disbelief, cried, laughed, and, in the final few minutes, were allowed to touch it, each person relating to it in a unique way. “During its eight week run,” Walker writes about the twenty-eight-minute film, “conversation around A Subtlety wound its way across different social media platforms to become an object of contention as well as reverence, and a talking point about historic injustice, artistic hubris, the public gaze, responsible viewership, black audiences vs. white ones, black female representation, aggressive male behavior, self recognition, and ‘selfies.’ . . . It was certainly a curiosity.” Of course, she knows it was much more than a curiosity, continuing, “One could observe many meanings taking shape in individual viewers, and unlike most contemporary art events — especially one featuring large nude female figures with negro physiognomies and colossal genitalia — full families with small children, elderly churchgoers, artists, grandstanders, and a general public of all shapes came out each weekend in large numbers to bear witness.” If you were not able to bear witness yourself when the piece was on display in Brooklyn — the lines did tend to get rather long at prime times — you can at least get a feel for what all the deserved hoopla was about through this exhibit, which looks at the before, during, and after, culminating in the other film being screened, the six-and-a-half-minute Rhapsody, which shows the installation being torn down to the “exuberant” sounds of Emmanuel Chabrier’s 1883 orchestral composition, “España.”

MR. TURNER

MR. TURNER

British painter J. M. W. Turner (Timothy Spall) and his devoted housekeeper, Hanna Danby (Dorothy Atkinson), pause for a moment in Mike Leigh’s biopic

MR. TURNER (Mike Leigh, 2014)
Opened December 19
www.sonyclassics.com/mrturner

Timothy Spall was named Best Actor at the Cannes Film Festival for his compelling portrayal of British artist Joseph Mallord William Turner in Mike Leigh’s lovely biopic, Mr. Turner. Spall, who played Peter Pettigrew in the Harry Potter series and has appeared in such other Leigh films as Topsy-Turvy, All or Nothing, Life Is Sweet, and Secrets & Lies, portrays Turner as a gruff, self-involved painter who grunts and growls his way through life. At his home studio he is assisted by his aging father, William (Paul Jesson), and his devoted housekeeper, Hanna Danby (Dorothy Atkinson), who he occasionally shags when in the mood. Turner carries his sketchbook wherever he goes, always on the look-out for a beautiful landscape or winter storm that could become the subject of his next painting. With that in mind, he rents a room in a small seaside inn run by Sophia Booth (Marion Bailey), who eventually becomes more than just his landlady. An artist well ahead of his time, Turner becomes frustrated with the men at the Royal Academy of Arts and lisping art critic John Ruskin (Joshua McGuire), who don’t appreciate his work properly, especially when he starts heading toward abstraction.

MR. TURNER

J. M. W. Turner (Timothy Spall) is always on the look-out for a subject to paint in MR. TURNER

Leigh (Naked, Happy-Go-Lucky) does not paint the kindest portrait of J. M. W. Turner, who turned his back on his former mistress, the shrill Sarah Danby (Ruth Sheen), and their two daughters (Sandy Foster and Amy Dawson); doesn’t have the nicest things to say about such contemporaries as John Constable (James Fleet) and Benjamin Haydon (Martin Savage); and refuses to listen to the stern warnings of his doctor (David Horovitch). Turner is an artist first and foremost; everything else takes a backseat in his life. Despite being based on actual events, the film was made in Leigh’s usual style, with the actors improvising within set scenes; Spall, who studied painting for two years in preparing for the role, takes full advantage of the opportunity, often refusing to articulate, grunting and growling as he deals with other people who dare share their thoughts and opinions with him. It’s a very funny conceit that helps define a rather unusual character. As befits a story about a masterful painter, cinematographer Dick Pope, who has shot most of Leigh’s films, beautifully photographs the sun rising and setting over vast landscapes, capturing its glowing light cast over the sea. Leigh keeps the narrative subtle, as when Turner and Sophia sit for a daguerreotype; almost nothing extraordinary happens in the scene, but from a few groaned questions and Spall’s expression, viewers can sense Turner realizing the changes that photography will bring to realist painting, spurring his controversial switch to more abstract canvases. It is not shown as a eureka moment but just another part of Turner’s development in becoming one of the most important and influential artists of the nineteenth century. And then there are the paintings themselves, glorious works that are always a joy to see, especially in a film that is a work of art itself.